Spite
by HikaruluvsRoses
Summary: Her father is afraid of far too much, Severa decides. Perhaps that's why Cordelia left them. [Severa-centric one-shot looking at her relationship with her mother, her father, and the gods.]


**Summary:** Her father is afraid of far too much, Severa decides. Perhaps that's why Cordelia left them. [Severa-centric one-shot looking at her relationship with her mother, her father, and the gods.]

 **Pairing(s)/Character(s):** Severa, Libra, Lissa

 **Rating:** K+

 **Warnings:** Mentions of canon character death

 **Words:** 1178

 **A/N:** Would you believe that this was supposed to be another fluffy Owain/Severa piece about her etching his name into the sword? well. yeah. that didn't happen. as per usual.

* * *

"As much as I hate to harm any more of the gods' creatures, it is about time I returned to the battlefield," Severa hears her father say, and in her mind's eye she can imagine him smiling that same weary smile that he's hardly taken off in public over the past two years, even though now he's supposedly conversing with an old friend and one would assume he would allow his shields to fall at least slightly. "After all," he continues, the slightest bit of mirth worming its way into his tone. "Cordelia would have a fit if she were to find that I've been slacking off for these past two years."

Cordelia.

The name strikes a chord in Severa's heart, even after the two years she's spent trying to erase it from her memory. It's a name she hates; a name she _despises_ , as in her mind it belongs to a selfish woman who abandoned her husband and daughter in order to sacrifice her life for a prince that would never love her back. It belongs to a disgustingly _perfect_ woman whose skills were needed on the battlefield, away from what was supposed to be her home and family. It belongs to a woman who should still be here, a woman whose name she hears so often whispered at night as her father locks himself away to pray to gods that Severa is beginning to doubt even exist.

It belongs to her mother.

A worn laugh that certainly does _not_ belong to her father, no matter how feminine he may seem, catches Severa's attention as his companion replies in a sickeningly _forced_ cheerful tone, "I suppose she would." A beat passes before the same voice adds in a much more cautious manner, "But if you don't wish to fight, Libra, there are several tasks we would love you to do here. Lon'qu and I have been discussing training the children to defend themselves..."

Her father chuckles tiredly. "Oh no, Lissa. You know I could have no part in that. The only things I am suited to teach are prayers."

"You underestimate yourself, Libra. You really do have a way with kids..."

"As do you," Severa's father says simply, in the tone that he uses when Severa's patience wears thin and she begins expecting too much from the gods. Just thinking about it makes Severa scoff lightly in disbelief. How can one expect too much from _gods_? But that is beside the point, especially as Libra adds, "Besides, I... think it would be best for Severa if I were to leave, if nothing else."

 _What_?

Hold on hold on hold on _hold on_.

How in _blazes_ does that make sense? For two _years_ Severa - no, both her _and_ Libra - had been struggling with the loss of Cordelia in their lives, and now he thinks that _splitting up_ would _help her_ somehow? Where in Naga's accursed name did he get _that_ idea?

Ah, but considering his _own_ parents' failings, perhaps Severa shouldn't be too surprised -

"I don't understand," Lissa states reluctantly, voicing only a fraction of Severa's own thoughts. "Wouldn't it be best for Severa if she had you here, with her?"

Her blasted father doesn't even _hesitate_ as he responds matter-of-factually, "Perhaps. But... I'm afraid that if I'm here, she won't reach out towards the other children. And I think..." Severa's heart races as she waits for her father to finish. Is he _daft_? She's not any more likely to reach out towards the other children if he _abandons her_ , either. What's even the point of returning to the battlefield? It's far too late to save her mother, so wouldn't it be best to look after the only family he has left? Isn't he always the one talking about taking good care of the things the gods bless you with? Why is _Libra_ , of all people, failing to practice what he teaches?

"I believe that if I were to stay here, Severa will be unable to let go of the past," her father finally finishes. "I want this place to remind her of times before Cordelia passed. But considering that I myself am unable to move on... I'm afraid I will only drag her down with me."

Her father is afraid of far too much, Severa decides. Perhaps that's why Cordelia left them.

"I see," Lissa murmurs, just loud enough for Severa to make out. Well, that makes _one of them_ who understands Libra's ludicrous reasoning - but maybe Lissa is only saying as much in order to ease Libra's concerns. At the back of her mind, Severa wonders if the loss of his wife literally drove Libra mad.

Footsteps sound not too far from where Severa is curled against the wall, and she finds herself wondering whether or not she should flee just as Lissa asks, "Are you going to bid Severa farewell?"

"Of course," Libra replies, his voice far closer than Severa anticipated. "Don't bother searching for her, though," he adds, just as his hand curls around the edge of Severa's wall. "She's not far." With that, he steps around the corner, smiling far more genuinely than Severa has seen him smile for the past two years.

Suddenly, Lissa is standing beside him. "Oh, Severa!" she exclaims, her cheeks sporting a rosy hue upon realizing that the small girl had been listening, as though it's _her_ who is the naughty child being caught rather than Severa. "Have you been here long?"

Severa shrugs, and let it be known that she does _not_ miss the shared glance between her father and Lissa after she delivers her non-committal response. "Anyways, Severa," her father says after a beat or two pass in silence, crouching before his daughter so he no longer towers above her as he does at his full height, "I'm going to be leaving now."

"Why, so you can _die_ and join Mother?" The words spill out before Severa can really acknowledge that they're her own, leading her father's brow to furrow as he studies her face as though she's that dull religious tome he's always reading.

"If the gods see fit, I'll be back at the war's end," Libra states simply, as though it's really that easy. Severa refrains from rolling her eyes, however, allowing her father to continue. "Until then, I want you to get along with the other children, alright? And be good to Aunt Lissa; she's going out of her way to look after you."

"Oh, no," Lissa interjects, "I'm all too happy to see Severa again." Weakly, she smiles at the girl in question, but Severa stubbornly glances away.

Libra gazes upon his daughter in silence before finally reaching up to cup the back of her head to place a soft kiss upon her forehead. "Even if I don't return," Libra says solemnly, his hand softly combing through Severa's dusty blond strands. "The gods will always be with you, Severa."

With that, her father stands, hugs Aunt Lissa one last time, and disappears forever.

Severa truly hates the gods.


End file.
